


Bobo Shebobaloo

by ibonekoen



Series: Rough Hands [5]
Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-06
Updated: 2012-08-06
Packaged: 2017-11-11 13:59:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/479276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ibonekoen/pseuds/ibonekoen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steph finds a cat out on their back patio one day and decides to adopt it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bobo Shebobaloo

**Author's Note:**

> Non-powered, modern AU set in an rp verse called Rough Hands, started with a friend. Stephanie Rogers and Clint Barton met in high school and started dating. Eventually they get married. She's Army, he's a Marine, and together, they try to make their lives as soldiers work.
> 
> Also, it goes without saying, but here it is anyway: I don't own these characters. They belong to Marvel and Stan Lee. I'm just playing in their sandbox. Please don't sue me.

  


Steph wanders into the kitchen on her first morning back at home, rubbing sleep out of her eyes and already thinking about what she's going to cook for breakfast when she comes to an abrupt halt in front of the door leading out to the patio in the backyard. She swears she hears meowing, and sure enough, when she turns a curious eye toward the door, she sees a gorgeous black and gray striped cat pawing at the door through the glass.

Her eyebrows lift and she wonders if Clint got a cat while she was away. She doesn't recall him mentioning anything, and she's never really thought of him as the cat type, but she supposes anything is possible. When she opens the door and the cat runs right into the kitchen like he owns the place, it certainly cements the idea that Clint got a cat, and she starts poking around in the pantry, looking for food.

"Well, apparently your daddy keeps the food hidden somewhere else because I'm sure not finding it," she mutters as the cat winds his way around her ankiles. She can't help but grin as she crouches down to pet him. "He probably doesn't let you have milk, huh? But just this once won't hurt anything."

She straightens up and heads over to the cabinets beside the sink, opening one and pulling out a plastic bowl. Setting it on the counter, she crosses over to the fridge and pulls out a gallon of milk, then pours some into the bowl. The cat is meowing before she can even get the bowl on the floor, and then he starts lapping at the milk.

By the time the smell of coffee and bacon frying rouses Clint out of bed, the cat has long since finished the milk and jumped up on the windowsill in the breakfast nook, lounging on his back in the sun. Clint stumbles into the kitchen, bleary-eyed and only half-awake, and Steph kisses him before pushing a cup of coffee into his hand.

She waits until he's looking a little more alert and then asks "Hey, when did we get a cat?"

Clint shoots her a blank look and lowers his cup. "Say what?"

She arches an eyebrow and nods toward the windowsill as she transfers the crispy bacon onto a wire rack so the grease can drain off onto the baking pan below. "The cat? When did we get it? And what's his name?"

Clint glances toward the window and spits out the sip of coffee he'd just taken. "Where'd that cat come from?"

She shoots him a confused look and pours the excess grease into a pan to cool, then cracks open four eggs in a bowl. "He was meowing at the back door this morning when I came in here. I just assumed that he belonged to us. He came into the house like he owned the place."

Clint frowns and sets his cup down on the table. "Steph, honey, you know I would've told you if I'd gotten a cat while you were gone."

 

Steph grabs a whisk and stirs the eggs to blend yolks and whites, then adds salt and pepper. "Well, he's not wearing a collar so I guess he's ours now." She ignores the groan that escapes Clint and grins.

~*~*~

She ends up naming the cat Bobo Shebobaloo because it makes her laugh, even if Clint does insist that it makes the cat sound like a clown. He also snaps a picture of the cat and makes a flyer that he gives her to hang up around the neighborhood.

"Come on, Steph, we've at least gotta _try_ to find his actual owners," he insists as he hands her the stack of freshly printed flyers.

She returns that afternoon empty-handed and fails to tell him that she only hung them up on their street. After two weeks, nobody has shown up to claim the cat, and Steph buys him a nylon collar with a chocolate-colored sparkle ribbon overlay and a tiny bell. The house is stocked with cat food and toys, and Steph tries to coax Bobo into sleeping in a bed she's placed in the corner of the kitchen near the back door, but he seems uninterested. He sits at the back door and meows until someone lets him out, and he seems to only come inside to eat. The rest of the time, he's content to spend his time outside.

Eventually, she has to head back overseas, and she calls Clint to check on Bobo, knowing that Clint has at least a month before he's shipped out again. "Hey, babe, how's my cat?"

"Um, well, babe, that's a really good question."

She frowns, sitting up on her bunk. "Clint... What did you do?"

He makes an affronted scoff. "I am shocked that you think I would do anything to your cat, Steph." 

There's silence on the line for a few minutes, and she's starting to think that he hung up on her when he suddenly sighs. "He ran away. I let him out last night and he hasn't come back. I'll keep an eye out for him, but I don't know if he's coming back, Steph. He just kinda mysteriously showed up at the house in the first place. Maybe his owners finally found him."

She knows it's silly to get upset over an animal that wasn't really hers to begin with, but she really likes Bobo. When he would stay inside the house, he'd curl up with her on the couch and let her pet him for hours, just purring and nibbling at her fingers. She supposes she should be happy that his owners might've found him. Bobo had obviously been a healthy cat when he'd shown up at the house, so she figures that somebody must've taken good care of him.

"Hey, don't be upset, Steph. Maybe we can get a cat of our own when you get back."

She smiles softly, appreciating the gesture. "Maybe. All right, I should probably go. It's lights out. Love you, baby."

"I love you too, Steph."

She hangs up and sighs as she flops back down on her bunk, staring up at the ceiling. She's going to miss that damn cat.

~*~*~

Eighteen months away from home can really make a person homesick, and Steph's never been so grateful to be home. Clint's still away on his tour of duty, but she's accustomed to being home alone. She putters around the house in her pajamas, eating ice cream out of the container and letting the dishes stack up for three days until she finally can't stand it and has to wash them.

She's standing at the sink, up to the middle of her forearms in soapy dishwater when she hears a meow at the door. Arching an eyebrow, she rinses off her hands and dries them on a dish towel before walking over to the door, and she snorts when she sees a familiar black and gray striped cat sitting on the patio.

"Well, well, well, the prodigal cat returns," she says as she opens the door and Bobo breezes into the room and starts winding around her ankles like it hasn't been over a year since he last saw her. She notices he's still wearing the collar she bought him, even if the sparkles are half worn off. She tries to be stern, arms crossed over her chest and face arranged in a scowl, but then he starts purring and rubbing against her leg, and she melts, grinning as she bends down to scoop him up in her arms.

"You goofy cat." She shakes her head and gets a plastic bowl from the cabinet, filling it with milk and setting it on the floor for him.

And so it goes; Bobo is never really an indoor cat. He prefers to sleep outdoors and initially avoids Clint altogether, going to Steph for pets and food. She isn't even really sure she'd call him exclusively _their_ cat. Whenever Steph leaves for a tour, Bobo disappears, only to show up again a few days after she returns.

Eventually, Clint and Bobo do warm up to each other, and Bobo even starts showing up when it's just Clint at the house. Clint never mentions liking the cat being around, but Steph catches him out on the patio one day, reclining in a lounge chair in ripped jean shorts and a cowboy hat balanced low over his eyes. Bobo's curled up in a ball on Clint's chest, and both are fast asleep. Steph makes sure she gets a print of that for their Christmas cards.


End file.
